


Thanks for the Memories

by Delphne



Category: Finder no Hyouteki | Finder Series
Genre: Adult Content, Comedy, Drunk Sex, Drunken Shenanigans, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, First Meetings, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Lighthearted, M/M, One Shot, Yaoi, accidentally plot, silliness
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-14
Updated: 2020-12-02
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:21:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 19,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23644534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Delphne/pseuds/Delphne
Summary: "Asami distracted? By some spunky little blond- no less."While at attendance at a fundraiser, Asami is planning on striking a deal for an important client. His plans go awry when a drunk blond garnishes his attention. One night stands are always fun, but this one.... he might be hard-pressed to forget.
Relationships: Asami Ryuichi/Takaba Akihito
Comments: 105
Kudos: 460





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I promise there is a method to my madness, you'll just have to wait until it unfolds a bit. I had a lot of fun writing this. It's my first time posting a fan-fiction and I was very nervous about it, so I hope you like :D

Ryuichi Asami's life was as finely tailored as one of his favorite three-piece suits. Every detail flawlessly constructed and custom-made just for him. Every measurement done to exact specifications. Always perfectly pressed and unblemished.

Never a thread out of place.

It was necessary to keep a tightly wounded command over every facet of his existence. To have complete mastery over every aspect of his mental, physical, and even emotional state. His control was a trademark characteristic of his very personality.

But it was also a crucial function of his occupation. That was the nature of his line of work. A-go-between, a link that joins the criminal world and the respectable world. One that he kept in perfect order.

A tight rope he was constantly balancing on. A fine line, he was always threading. He had to maintain a firm hand on both his legitimate and illicit affairs- lest it falls into utter chaos.

Asami’s control over every aspect of his life went beyond just his business practices. Even his personal life, if that's what you could call it, was just as diligently designed as the rest of his life was.

People had their express purpose and nothing beyond that. It kept things uncomplicated and neatly filed away in the recess of his mind. He had never wanted for anything more than that.

In his line of work, it was dangerous to have emotional attachments. They tie you down. They distract you. A weakness he could not afford to have. Bringing emotion into it- It only makes the work that much more difficult.

However, it was imperative to appear a certain way from the outside. To give the impression that everything is as orderly on the inside as it was outwardly.

Sure, Asami had a certain…appetite….But, he had learned to keep himself in check. To show restraint.

The fundraiser Asami was attending was suppose to be standard procedure. A quick meeting with a certain diet member for their scheduled payoff.

You know- business as usual for our young crime lord.

Events like these were usually tedious, as everyone was eager to take up Asami’s time with worthless prattle. People often took this opportunity to try to convince him to join some venture or invest in something or another. Ask him for favors—drivel on about something useless. Or otherwise, try their hardest to gain the crime lord's attention.

Asami spent the evening busy pulling out the charm and the basic pleasantries. Being very courteous. Declining offers, pretending to be interested, acting like the regular gentleman - the usual dance.

His high-society routine. The aloof businessman act. Of course, he could play the high society act better than anyone.

Navigating through the particulars of high society was sometimes just as demanding as discussing terms of a crucial weapons deal with the Russian Mafia. In fact, Asami probably preferred the latter any day of the week.

Kirishima was following closely behind as he always did. The secretary whispered something about how the party was moving upstairs to the balcony level. His meeting with the Diet Member was to take place there.

He politely excused himself and walked to the elevator—the doors were closing when suddenly a voice could be heard.

“Excuse me - Excuse me. Hh-Hold the door for me!”

Asami usually hated sharing elevators with people. Even so, he had to be polite. In case it was someone of value.

But this time, someone unexpected appeared.

A young bright-faced man, with a boyish grin, appeared at the elevator door. He was slightly out of breath and had a flushed look on his face. As if he had just been running.

He stepped in and muttered a soft thanks towards Asami before taking up a position next to the older man.

The elevator jerked upwards, and there was a pregnant pause. The boy seemed fidgety, and he shuffled nervously next to Asami. The older man inched his head so that he could take a look at the younger man out of the corner of his eye.

At first glance, you might have thought the young man had a rather scruffy exterior, especially with that unruly blond mop on his head. His hair seemed unusually unkempt, given his rushed entrance into the elevator.

He was about a head shorter than Asami and wore a slightly ill-fitted black suit. His tie was faintly crooked, and a button on his collar had gotten undone. He seemed, overall, somewhat out of place at a fundraising event like this. He was too young and inelegant.

But now that Asami looked at him more clearly, he realized it was only a misleading veneer. His appearance was actually very striking. The ill-fitted suit masked a figure with lean muscle and slim hips. The tousled mess of blond hair on his head partially covered large hazel eyes and delicate lashes. You might have also have missed the creamy patch of skin on his long elegant neck.

He was actually quite the little prince in disguise. Asami perked an eyebrow up in interest as he continued surveying the boy.

His flushed face had yet to vanish. In fact, it seemed to be a permeant feature on his face. Moreover, Asami noted his eyes were actually beginning to look glossed over.

_Was he… drunk?_

The dopey grin on the young man's face seemed to answer his question.

_Yes. Yes, he’s drunk. _The older man almost snickered. _How cheeky. At an event like this?___

The young man must have sensed eyes on him, and he darted his head around and caught the older man leering.

Asami didn’t look away- he was shameless after all. But what surprised him was that neither did the young man. He daringly held Asami’s gaze, an irate glare on his face.

It was an odd little moment. Both had been caught staring, but neither was willing to concede. Both clearly too stubborn to retreat.

Asami's mouth curled into a mischievous grin. It elicited quite a response from the young man. Whose eyes widen in surprise, and his cheeks flushed an even deeper crimson.

The doors of the elevator suddenly opened, taking both men out of their little staring contest. The young man took the opportunity to hurry out of the elevator and through the balcony doors. Asami eyed him out the door until he was out of sight.

_Interesting… _Asami thought with a sneer. A grin building on his lips.__

* * *

That was all it was, a knowing look- and suddenly the game was afoot.

That was how Ryuichi Asami found himself unable to think clearly.

Here Asami was at his crucial meeting. The diet member was here right in front of him, ready to speak with him. But, Asami could hardly pay attention to what the man was saying.

Asami distracted? By some spunky little blond- no less.

It should have been unheard of. Yet here he was, staring down the boy from halfway across the room. Completely enthralled by his every move. It wasn’t like him to be preoccupied like this, especially when work was involved.

Work always came first. It was virtually the older man’s motto.

But, how could he possibly focus when directly behind the diet members head was the cutest little blond only a few yards away. His back was to Asami, and he was leaning against the railing, taking in the night's breeze. Looking as pretty as a picture.

Asami knew in the back of his mind what he should be concentrating on. The man's evening agenda was already meticulously arranged by his faithful secretary. What calls he needed to take? What scheduled meetings and appointments he would be primed for?

Asami should have been using this time to secure some substantial government contracts on the behest of a few of his clients. A deal like this was enormously consequential to his own business interest. The deal would keep his clients happy while also lining his own pockets with a percentage of the profits. It was essential for him to stay focused.

Plus, this meeting was only the start of his busy evening schedule. He still had more to do at Club Sion tonight. But, the usual efficiency and structure of his perfectly formulated day were now so far from his mind.

There was a novelty to this feeling that he was not used to experiencing.

Why now, of all places? And for this mangy little mutt, of all things. Right while he was in front of an important client, and there’s a significant deal to be made? All those reasons somehow made it all the more intriguing and too irresistible to ignore.

The blond was undoubtedly cute. But not the usual type Asami typically approached. He was too- too sweet.

Asami had always thought he didn’t like sweets. Which is why he couldn’t explain this onset sweet tooth he was suddenly in the midst of.

The blond was tantalizing- and so ripe for the taking too. An opportunity he simply couldn’t let slip away.

But first, He was going to secure the contracts he needed. That was a given. He couldn’t leave something this important half-finished.

Plus, he still had time on his side. There was no need to rush anything. It was unlikely that the young man was going to leave anytime soon. Once he obtained the contracts, afterward, he’d have the little blond as his prize and to hell with the rest of his perfectly scheduled day.

Kirishima would probably lecture a bit. But, his secretary also knew that it was impossible to talk Asami down once he’d made his mind up- and he certainly had made up his mind.

* * *

Akihito was letting the evening breeze brush against his hot-feeling face.

He should crash parties, more often, he thought with a smug smile. What's not to like? Free food, free drinks, AND a free view! Absolute Bliss!

Akihito was at that peak plateau of drunkenness, where every little thing is just simply marvelous. When you’ve got your rose-colored glasses on, and everything and everyone is most agreeable. Plus, he was reasonably pleased with himself.

_Getting into this fundraiser. A cinch._

_Mingled with the crowd. Check._

_Ate a bunch of fancy lookin hors d’oeurves - You’re darn right._

_Downed a few drinks…._

_W-wait, what._

_Aren’t I suppose to be…suppose to... What was I doing here again..._

_Wait, wait, I am supposed to be worki- HUH._

Before he could finish that thought, he suddenly caught sight of a waiter walking towards him. His eyes must have gleamed in pure delight.

_They have Takoyaki here?!? _[fried octopus balls]__

It was a happy distraction to keep himself from thinking too hard. Once again, putting out of his mind that he was, in fact, here to do a job. But never mind that- there was Takoyaki in front of him. He grabbed a nice portion and happily munched away.

How was it that our young photographer found himself this drunk, completely forgetting the job he had been tasked with?

It was Mitarai doing. Always Mitarai… that cheap-stake.

He was supposed to be working on a case about some scummy politician. It was the usual story. Minor rumors of some kind of shady dealings. Not enough evidence or proof to put anyone under investigation or to even put it to print.

A fundraiser at a hotel in downtown Shinjuku, where the diet member in question would be attending, seemed like the perfect opportunity for Akihito to snoop. Security wouldn’t be too stiff, so it was only a question of slipping in and getting lost in the crowd of people.

Everything was going as planned.

The photographer had snapped some decent shots. For this occasion, Akihito had brought out one of his favorite devices. A camera you could tuck neatly under a sleeve and shoot very discreetly. Nobody was paying him much attention, so he could snap some shots from a safe distance.

It all appeared very above-board. Nothing unusual had happened all evening. There was nothing suspicious, and Akihito was about to call it a night.

Until Mitarai reared his ugly head, Akihito thought they were only friendly rivals. But it turns out Mitarai didn’t feel that way. He claimed he had called dibs on this case and that Akihito was infringing on his turf. The rival cameraman had apparently been following this diet member for two days now- to no avail.

Akihito was none too pleased to see Mitarai. He had already done some necessary background digging for the case. The photographer didn’t want to end up with nothing for his efforts. But, he should have just left and let Mitarai cover the fundraiser.

There was no point in arguing with Mitarai over some kind of silly “turf war.” Akihito thought he would be reasonable. They’d exchange information, work on the case together, and then they’d split whatever the payout was.

It seemed fair enough, plus, how many times had Mitarai pulled that same gag on Akihito. Always demanding to split Akihito's payout 30-70, where his only contribution was the smallest of tips.

It turns out Mitarai wasn’t willing to share. When they toasted to their deal. What Akihito didn’t realize was, it was all part of an elaborate plan to completely distract him from his job by getting him dead drunk.

How many drinks had he slipped to Akihito? Goading him every step of the way to take another sip.

Akihito had always been a lightweight, so it probably didn’t take much to inebriate him completely. Mitarai got everything he wanted. Drunk Akihito slipped him the information he had dug up on the diet member. It didn’t have to cost him anything. He even confiscated Akihito's secret camera for “safekeeping.”

Now, as Akihito munched away on the delicious fried octopus treat, he scanned the crowd. Vaguely wondered where Mitarai had run off too. When suddenly, the rival photographer appeared in front of him.

“Takaba, how did you get up here?” Mitarai chided.

Akihito scoffed when he saw Mitarai. “What a-are yooouuu doing here?” He retorted back. Wagging a finger at his rival.

Mitarai chuckled at Akihito’s silly behavior. “As long as you stay out of my way, you can stay here. The diet member is here, so TRY not to draw attention to yourself.”

Akihito didn’t respond. His eyes narrowed slightly at the mention of the diet member.

_HUH? The diet member? Tha- That's right. The Diet member. Where?_

He frantically turned his head around in search of the older man. Until he followed what Mitarai was looking at.

Sure enough, there was the Diet member. On the other side of the balcony, in the VIP section of the party. He was engaged in conversation with ..wit-

_It's that JERK from earlier!_

_What kind of look was he giving me? Pretentious rich bastard. He was definitely looking down at me. Well... PFT. Not everyone is born wearing a fancy designer three-piece suit an-and has a-a … perfect stupid face or whatever._

_Of course, he’s talking to that sleazeball diet member. They're perfect for each other! Akihito thought._

The man in question stuck out compared to the people around him. He was spread out leisurely on a sofa. Legs crossed and an amber drink in hand. He looked relax, sitting across from the Diet Member, clearly in some kind of in-depth discussion.

What's that saying? How a suit makes 'the man'? With him, it was impossible to tell. Was it that his suit was so exquisite, or was it merely the man himself? It was probably both. He was in a league of his own appearance-wise.

Dark hair lazily slicked back, a few strands framing his face effortlessly. Striking features, chiseled bone structure. Those unusual golden-colored eyes that loo—

_Huh? Is he- Is he looking this way…_

The man had turned his head only slightly. For a moment, his eyes shifted away from the diet member and glanced in Akihito’s general direction. Akihito couldn’t be sure. But somehow, from across the room, he could sense those intense golden eyes on him.

The photographer darted his head around, although, for the life of him, he didn’t understand why. Why was he scrambling to avoid his gaze, as if he was guilty of something? And another thing... Why was his face feeling warm again?

Just then, Mitarai turned around with two flutes of champagne in his hand. He had just picked them up from a passing waiter and handed one over to Akihito, who readily accepted the drink.

Akihito took a swig of the drink, happy to be distracted by yet another bubbly liquid. Contented to remain in his blissful plateau of drunkenness where he could definitely stay untroubled by any certain perfect faced bastard.

“Let’s get a bit closer, so we can hear what he’s saying.” Mitarai started. But, Akihito was mumbling something under his breath.

“..a-and you could cut someone with that jawline..”

“Akihito? Come on, let's head over there. I wanna get a closer look” Mitarai was about to lead Akihito towards the sitting area. Closer to where that handsome prick was sitting. But the young blond stopped him dead in his tracks.

“No... no, I don’t want to go over there” the words came out uneasy, and he shrugged off Miatari's hand.

“What do you mean, no?!” Mitarai's voice raised slightly. “I thought you wanted to help me… if we go over there… together…it’ll be less suspicious. Now come on” Mitarai put his hand on Akihito’s forearm to help guide him over to the sitting area.

“N-no!” This time Akihito's voice was suddenly loader, and he shook off Mitarai with even more force. People nearby were turning their heads at the small commotion.

Mitarai got defensive now. He didn’t want to elicit any unnecessary attention. He put his hands up in surrender, “Okay.. okay.”

He paused for a minute, letting the young man calm down. “I just thought…. Maybe you’d like… to get more Takoyaki…you know over there,” Mitarai smirked and gestured to an area next to the VIP section.

Any other day, Akihito would have definitely fallen for that ruse. But not this time. Intent on staying away from that devilishly handsome man. Even if it meant no Takoyaki.

Akihito was quiet for a moment. He must have looked like he was considering the option. Mitarai must have gotten too impatient and reached to put his hand on Akihito's forearm.

But before he could even touch the photographer, Akihito recoiled violently away and gave Mitarai an irate glare.

“Stop!” He shouted and taking a step away from Mitarai.

Mitarai immediately regretted it, but before he could take it back, a firm hand landed on his shoulder.

* * *

The man directly behind Mitarai was practically a brick wall.

The biggest man both men had ever seen. He was nearly two heads taller than Mitarai. Crew cut blond hair, with a grim-looking face. The man was looking sternly at Mitarai. His large hand firmly on the cameraman's shoulder.

Suoh _technically_ had the title of Asami’s second secretary. Although the large man was always slightly embarrassed by the title, it was more for appearances than anything else.

“Excuse me,” Suoh said, pushing Mitarai backward. “I am gonna need to see your invitation and some identification.”

Both men looked wide-eyed at Suoh. Neither of them had been invited. But both were frozen stiff in place by the bulky man's foreboding presence.

Akihito frowned and cast down his eyes. “I-I am s-sorry. W-we didn’t mean to cause a scene.” He said pitifully. He didn’t wanna be thrown out on his ass.

“I wasn’t talking to you,” Suoh said to Akihito.

“Huh?” “Huh?!” Akihito and Mitarai spoke at the same time.

Suoh’s other hand grabbed Mitarai by the wrist and twisted it behind his back, ready to escort him out of the building.

“Ow! Wait. But- I. OW!” Mitarai stammered, disbelief all over his face.

Akihito was in disbelief, too. Although not in the same way that Mitarai clearly was.

He was grinning ear to ear as he watched the large blond man steer Mitarai towards the elevator. The bulky man didn’t look back at Akihito or even acknowledge him again.

Akihito started laughing whole heartily at the expense of his rival.

“Goodbye! See you around,” he cheekily waved at Mitarai. He even stuck his tongue out tauntingly at him.

Mitarai looked for a moment like he wanted to say something, but he was shoved into the elevator. “H-HEY, wait.” It was all Akihito managed to hear before the doors closed on him.

“Serves you right,” Akihito called after him, giggles escaping his mouth.

He back up a few steps, still grinning like an idiot and beaming with glee that he didn’t notice until it was too late and he suddenly collided into someone behind him.

The photographer quickly swirled around, ready to swiftly apologize for his clumsiness. He may have been drunk, but he hadn’t forgotten his manners.

“S-sorr-“

It was the last person he expected to see. The photographer almost recoiled from the shock.

“Are you all right?” Asami said. The picture of concern on his face.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was honestly so pleased with how well the first chapter was received. Thank you, for ur kind words and all your kudos you have no idea how they propel me to continue writing! I was so excited to post this, that I honestly could not wait until Monday! 
> 
> My first attempt at a sex scene. [Asami moves really fast, okay!]
> 
> Also still figuring out formating. Hope it looks okay!

“Can I buy you a drink?”

Akihito gulped when he heard that cool baritone voice. Had a voice ever had such an effect on him before. Was it the effects of the alcohol that made his heartbeat flutter just then, or was it something else? He darted his eyes to the ground, feeling that unexplainable warmth on his cheeks again…

“I-I can buy my own drink. Thank you very much.” He said firmly. He didn’t mean for the words to come out so condescendingly, and he instantly regretted his harsh tone.

The golden-eyed man put a hand up defensively. “Alright. Alright. I just thought I’d see if you were okay? I saw that man bothering you.” His tone was surprisingly kind. 

Akihito was feeling guilty. He had thought such rude things about the man only earlier, but now he seemed genuinely polite, concerned even. He was starting to feel like maybe he had judged him too harshly. 

“It was just- just a misunderstanding.” The photographer said mildly. “I-I am fine. I wouldn’t want to trouble you for a drink.” 

“It’s no trouble. Would you like to sit down?” The golden-eyed man gestured towards the sitting area behind them. “Perhaps I could get you something to eat?” 

Akihito perked up at the mention of food. He was an easy one to please, after all.

Now that the photographer thought about it. He was feeling rather hungry, and you know what…he could probably do with another drink.

All he could possibly conclude, while in his intoxicated state, was that the man was undoubtedly better companion than that pesky Mitarai. 

The photographer's eyes light up, and he smiled in his pure merry state. He was easily swayed, he supposed. And oh so trusting to boot.

“Alright, Mister Businessman. I think I’ll take that drink now.” 

_________________________

**20 minutes later:**

Akihito was harshly yanked into an elevator. 

Asami didn’t even wait for the doors to close all the way. Before he pinned the young man against the opposite wall. He scooped the boy's chin up and crushed their mouths together in a hungry kiss.

The yakuza felt he had been reasonably patient all evening, he didn't want to wait another moment. His mind, already ten steps ahead of himself. 

Asami took a peek at the young blond in his arms. The boy looked very sweet, as they kissed.

He was firmly closing his eyelids, looking utterly lost in need. His face still had that perpetual flushness to it. A sign he was still drunk. 

The alcohol had made him lose all pretense. Asami had thought, the young man was most cooperative. Forward even. Which was an unexpected bonus. Plus, the boy's attempts at flirting were rather charming. 

Now though, the blond was admittedly getting swept away by the older man. 

They had only just exchanged names a while ago. In his pure drunken delight, the young man excitedly said his name was Aki-chan.

Bright in Japanese. Asami almost laughed with how perfectly it suited him.

In truth, only Akihito’s friends could call him that, and he usually hated it when they did. But for some reason, it’s what he blurted out to the older man. 

The elevator door opened to the top floor, and without skipping a beat, Asami quickly guided Akihito out of the elevator and into the hallway. Pressing him firmly against the wall and back into another kiss. They had somehow made it to the room door, and Asami quickly opened it and pulled Akihito into the room. 

For once, the young man seemed to take in his surroundings. He let go of Asami and whisked his head around the huge hotel room.

“W-Wow.” He said softly. His eyes lite up in delight, as he walked over to the floor-to-ceiling window on the far side wall, which had a stunning view of Tokyo’s skyline. For a moment, he was dazzled by the view. The neon lights of the city reflected back at him. “I wish I had my camera,” he whispered under his breath.

Asami had thought that the executive suite at this hotel was- nice, nothing particularly special though. 

There were nicer hotel rooms. For example, there was one he had always wanted to go to but never found the time. But it was only for special occasions- it apparently had a hot tub right in the middle of the room.

In any case, something was appealing about Akihito’s sheer gratitude and excitement he showed over the smallest of things. As if you could, spoil him in _other ways_ as well, and he’d show just as much appreciation.

Now wasn’t the time to take in panoramic views. Asami thought, he had other views in mind. 

Asami took off his jacket and neatly placed it on an armchair, and then un-cuffed his sleeves. The young man was still hazily looking out the window. Completely enchanted by the glittering lights below him, that he hardily noticed Asami coming up from behind.

Akihito tried to turn around to face Asami, but the older man stifled his movements. Instead, he wrapped an arm around him to keep him in place and nudged the two of them towards the glass window. 

He planted a kiss from behind on the nape of Akihito’s neck. He couldn’t help but to bite and suck on such a sweet and supple piece of skin. 

It was then that Akihito seemed to have taken notice of the growing tent in Asami’s pant. It poked at him from behind. He bit his lower lip as if suddenly becoming aware of what he had gotten himself into. 

“Wa-wait,” he started and squirmed a bit, trying to be released from Asami’s grip. 

But Asami didn’t let him loose, he took a sizable bite into Akihito’s lower neck. Pinned him against the window, so this time his stiff manhood pressed with even more insistency against Akihito’s backside. 

“W-wait. P-please. It’s my…my first time…” Akihito tried again. This time Asami shifted him forward. The young man was clearly anxious. Darting his eyes to the ground, biting his lower lip in his apprehension - he was fretting needlessly. 

“There’s nothing to be afraid of…” The older man slyly breathed out into the blond's ears.

Akihito didn’t respond, he only gulped agitatedly. But after a moment, he gave a slight nod. 

It was the green light Asami was looking for. He carefully led him to the bed. He popped open the blond's shirt buttons and undid his belt buckle. Intent on ridding the boy of his clothes as fast as possible. 

Akihito was too anxious to move. He was starting to feel a bit dizzy, and his ears were ringing slightly. Was it the alcohol’s doing or the butterflies in his stomach? He could only dutifully wait and let his cloth be swiftly removed. Once the job had been finished, Asami sat at the edge of the bed. Akihito was mostly stripped, except for his favorite pair of printed boxer shorts. 

The older man was still fully closed. His tie had come off at some point, and his pristine dress shirt was unbuttoned, revealing a toned and strapping physic. 

From Asami’s seat at the end of the bed, he pushed the young man forward by his waist. He kissed and fondled Akihito’s smooth chest. The skin was soft and delicate, and he took special care to caress and pinch his rosy nipples. The blond held on to Asami's shoulder for support, already feeling weak in his knees at the tender touches.

Asami slowly worked on creeping off those printed boxers. Of course, he was pleased to see that the young man was already hard from the light teasing. As soon as those boxers hit the floor, Asami effortlessly gathered the young man up and sent him plummeting down to the bed. 

“Lay on your side.” The crime lord ordered. 

Akihito, still nervous and unsure, did as he was told. He shuffled towards the head of the bed and dug his face into one of the plush pillows, to hide his reddening face. 

Asami only gave himself a brief moment to admire the young man lying patiently in front of him. 

Those slim hips and long legs, the lean muscles on his back and shoulders. Not to mention that perfectly round, bubble butt. Ugh. Absolutely pristine, perfection itself.

Asami almost licked his lips at the sight before him, his self-control slipping away all the more. It wasn’t like him to find it so unbearable to wait. He had to thwart his own excitement though, the younger man needed to be adequately prepared, and that might take a while.

With how amenable the young man was behaving, Asami felt it only fair that he be extra gentle. If nothing but to reward such sweetness. He could afford to take his time. 

Besides, the crime lord had an inkling that he’d want to savoy this one.

He rolled over to the bedside table, where a small bottle of lube was awaiting him. He took a nice portion and rolled back over to were Akihito was laid out. They were laid out side by side. Asami propping himself up with one arm, so he was positioned slightly higher. He bent down and kissed a shoulder before trailing his hand down to Akihito’s backside.

Akihito had dug his face into the pillow. His arms were gripping the pillow tightly beneath him. The tips of his ears had become crimson, long before Asami’s was anywhere near his backside. 

Akihito shuddered when he felt those long fingers on him. Asami kneaded the outside of Akihito’s puckered hole, wetting the entrance with lube. The young man let out a mousy eek when he felt a finger sliding into him. He bit down on the soft fabric to stop the noise from escaping and dug his face into the pillow.

Asami’s movements were gentle at first. Slicking up the inner walls and letting Akihito adjust before moving. After a minute, the thick finger lazily pumped in and out of him. He probed and prodded his insides, while the young man squirmed with every dull thrust.

For all of Akihito’s efforts to hide his voice, he couldn't hold back now. Asami perked up at the sound of the boys helpless whimpering. He was pleased he was already having such an effect on the young man, and his movements didn't appear to be causing pain or discomfort. 

Asami was making himself busy by kissing on a feverishly warm piece of skin on the blonds back. Before he decided, he would slip in a second finger. 

Akihito’s reaction was sharp, he huffed, and his insides clenched upon the sudden intrusion. It sent a jolt of pure electricity up Akihito’s spine, and he shivered at its impact. 

“Just breathe...You’re fine.” Asami soothed. He sounded sweet and gentle, but his movements were nothing of the sort.

The young man tried to do as he was told, focus on his now labored breath. Akihito couldn’t quite distinguish what he was feeling, it was a kind of a prickly sensation building up inside of him. Uncomfortable but simultaneously gratifying.

His front hadn’t been touched at all, and his erection was throbbing with a desperate strain. He felt he was close to climax, but he’d need just a little bit more to take him over the edge. 

He arched his back, sending his ass up- presenting himself wholly to the other man. He was shameless with want. His hips started to rock, almost involuntarily, as he met Asami thrust for thrust. He took pleasure where ever he could find it. The added friction had escalated the tension, but it still wasn’t enough. 

Asami looked on, his golden eyes gleamed with hunger, as he watched the young man writhing below him. The boy twitched and groaned with every maneuver. His breaths turning into muffled pants, as his hips tried to keep pace with Asami's rhythmic pumps.

Asami playfully scoffed at the blond's own self-indulgence. Akihito’s hips were swaying with such greed, as he fought to find a release. 

_How lewd._ Asami thinks with a grin. 

Akihito tried to place a hand on his own throbbing erection, to free himself of this aching tension. But, Asami swatted the boy's hands away.

"No touching," Asami growled. He used his other hand to pin the boy's wrists. 

Akihito whined wretchedly at that command. But he could not compete with the older man's iron grip on his wrist. 

There was an insistency now to Asami's finger fucking. He didn't let up. Hammering into Akihito's prostate, with every beat. Akihito's breath hitched, and his head rolled back. He pinched his eyes shut and groaned. He could feel his eyes beginning to well up with tears at the intensity.

Now it was time, Asami decided. 

The older man released Akihito's wrist and promptly slid his arm underneath the young man. He took Akihito’s leaking cock in hand, and give it a few rough tugs. The boy instantly squirmed at the overstimulation, thrashing his head back and forth. 

“N-no. Nhh,” he panted, struggling in Asami arms. 

But Asami had him well in hand. After a moment of a scrambling, Akihito's insides clenched up, and the boy came with a loud moan and a whole body shiver. Asami released him. He sat for a moment, letting Akihito catch his breath.

“Aki-chan..” He started. 

Asami was itching to move on to the next step. No. He was more than itching. Itching sounded far to subtle for the burning need he felt right now. The tent in his pants was throbbing, and in a way, he was not used to. All rationality was utterly gone. It had completely slipped away with every precious little moan the blond had made. He couldn’t wait any longer, his thoughts on nothing more than wanting to fill the blond up to the brim.

“You should lay on your stomach- “ 

But before Asami could finish his new order, Akihito had already swiftly turned around and planted a wet kiss on his mouth. 

Perhaps the young man had a sudden burst of confidence because he pushed the older man down and started to undo his belt buckle. Asami was a little taken aback by the boldness. The blond seemed just as eager as Asami was to move on to the next step. 

The older man helped him peel off his button-down. He laid back- happy to let the blond do as he pleased. Content with the initiative, the young man, was showing. 

Akihito managed to slip off Asami's belt and was undoing a pant button. All the while planting wet and sloppy kisses on Asami’s mouth, the older man didn’t seem to mind in the least.

Asami was so caught up in what Akihito was doing. The young man had a fairly wicked tongue. That he failed to notice one of his arms being moved towards the head of the bed.

Until that is, he felt something foreign around one of his wrists, and he spun his head around to look.

It was his own belt, now inexplicably wrapped around his wrist and then somehow tied to the headboard. It had happened faster than he could react.

 _What the - what._ Asami spun his head around to Akihito, who was keenly licking his lips and looking at Asami with mischievous eyes.

“Don’t move.” The young man breathed out, and he straddled the older man.

 _Th-that little rascal._ Was all Asami could think, but all the same, an unconscious smirk was lacing his lips.

The young man had seemed so docile just a minute ago. He was still catching his breath, his chest still rising and falling from his earlier excursion. He must have been partially delirious. His eyes were glazed over, and glistening in his haze. His face still had that wonderful flushed glow.

Yet here he was, brazenly tying up a yakuza boss to a bedpost as if it was nothing.

 _A surprising development, indeed._ Asami thought with a grin.

It practically flew in the face of convention. The older man was always accustomed to dictating the pace. No one had ever dared to be so impertinent before. Asami was still deciding whether or not the blond's daring act was either something entirely punishable or worthy of reward. 

Although, he couldn’t help but feel this turn of events was entirely pleasing. A novelty, in fact! 

He still had one hand free, it was easy enough to set himself free of the restraints. But, he was curious to see where it would lead, so he’d play along.

“What are your plans for your new position?” He practically purred out; the grin on his mouth widened. 

The boy seemed taken aback by that, perhaps he hadn’t thought that far ahead. He considered it for a moment. He sat up, and without uttering another word, he inched Asami’s pants and boxers lower. 

He was struggling with them, so he didn’t bother taking them all the way off. They just dangled just below the older man's hips. 

When he had slipped off the clothing, Asami’s hardened cock sprung out, and Akihito gently took it in hand to give it a few tender tugs. Spreading the pre-cum up and down Asami’s length.

He leaned over Asami. Propping himself up with one hand and using the other to spread his ass cheeks, so he could line up Asami’s cock with his entrance. He looked over his shoulder to check his progress. 

He might have been having some difficulty because each movement felt agonizingly slow for the older man.

“If you take these restraints off. I could help.” He said coyly. It was a weak attempt to sway the pendulum back in his favor. 

Except, Akihito wasn’t listening. His attention solely on lowering himself on Asami cock. He hesitated, though, as soon as the tip was at his entrance. He seemed to be realizing that it would be very different than taking in two fingers. 

“You can do it,” Asami said. It had sounded reassuring when it came out of his mouth. 

But, in truth, it was Asami’s own selfishness- the final crux he knew the young man needed to continue. 

Asami’s other hand, which had not been restrained, took a fist full of Akihito’s milky thigh, and secured it in place. He genuinely wanted to see this through. 

His words seemed to have done the trick because Akihito plunged himself on the head of Asami’s length. The sudden thrust sent the young man's head flying back, and he huffed at the sensation. He had half a mind to pull out, but Asami other hand was keeping him in place. 

Akihito tensed up. He had only taken in about half of Asami’s length. Still, he was twitching slightly from the dull throb of pain radiating from his backside. 

Asami momentarily doubted if the boy would continue. His mind already formulating how he would grab Akihito’s hips with his free hand and thrust the rest of himself into the boy. It would be cruel- the boy would probably find it unbearable. But it was best to quickly pass over that hurdle, the initial pain would only last a while. But before Asami could put his plan into action-

Akihito impaled himself- right. to. the. hilt. 

It felt like pure pleasure and pain warped together in an incomprehensible manner. The air felt like it had been robbed from his lungs. He trembled and twitched from the sharp stab. He tried to gasp, but all he could summon was a noiseless scream. 

After he found his voice, the blond let out the most indecent of moans. He hardily gave himself a minute to adjust himself. He was simply to far gone. There was something different about the blond now. A fiery flicker in his eyes that Asami had not seen before. 

His pupils were entirely blown out in his delirious lust. He looked at Asami with such a dark hunger. No longer looking like a scared little lamb.

He rode Asami harshly. There was no finessing involved, only that obscene slap of skin on skin and the faint sound of Akihito’s panting breath. 

Asami looked up at him with awe for a moment. Wondering whether he was swallowing the pain, or was, in fact, reveling in it. He couldn’t be entirely sure.

Did the boy have any idea he was riding the most dangerous man in Japan?

Asami chuckled with the thought.

_________________________

The boy eventually ran out of steam after a single round. Asami would take it as his cue to slip off the belt and grab hold of the situation. The boy even lasted a few more rounds after that. Until he inevitably slumped into the bed, well spent and sated. 

Akihito placed his heavy head on Asami's shoulder as he curled up next to the older man. It was an act of casual affection, one that he gave so freely and without thought. 

The crime lord was…unaccustomed to that. 

They were only a hookup, after all, and both grown men to boot. To show such intimacy after one night seemed out of the ordinary.

“Do you want me to continue holding you while you sleep?” Asami asked, with a hint of sarcasm in his tone. 

The young man clearly didn’t pick up on that sarcasm or the tone of jest in Asami voice because he wrapped his arms around Asami's neck and beamed a happy but groggy: 

“Uh-huh.”

Akihito closed his eyes, ready to drift into a peaceful sleep with a notorious crime lord wrapped around him. Not a care in the world. 

“ugh- ooh. um..okay..” Asami tried. 

For some reason, he couldn’t bring himself to argue. Nor did he feel like shrugging off the young man. He had planned to have a smoke, but that was futile now. He lay still instead, only listening to the blonds breathing in-and-out next to him. 

“…goodnight….mister ..businessman..,” the boy said faintly.

 _I see. He’s delirious, isn’t he?_ He thinks as he lightly strokes the boy's golden head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed ;} 
> 
> Will probably be posting on Saturdays, nights from now on!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, thanks for all your likes and kudos! I really appreciated it, it always makes me very excited to post new chapters to see how you guys will like it. This chapter was a lot longer than normal. it honestly could have been split into two.

_What the fuck?_

Akihito jolted upright in bed. But he immediately regretted his hasty movements, his head was splitting, and he felt the twist of nausea creeping its ugly head. He groaned and found himself sinking back into bed. 

He rubbed his temples to soothe his aching head. His eyelids felt heavy with drowsiness, and his mouth and throat were bone dry. It wasn’t the first time the photographer woke up with a gruesome hangover. Although nothing quite like this, and frankly, it was only the half of it. 

The effects of excessive alcohol were taking its toll, but that didn’t explain the anguish of sore muscles that threaten to take over his entire body. To make matters worse, the source of the worst of it was coming from his lower half. The dull ache of his lower back, the grim scrambled feeling of his lower abdomen, plus the pure gelatin feeling of his legs were extremely distressing signs.

What exactly had he gotten himself into yesterday? It was all a hazy blur, now. 

His mind tried to piece together the medley that was his evening. He had a job to do last night, and it was looking like he had ditched his assignment at some point and got utterly plastered.

 _MITARAI, That bastard._ Akihito thought. As the memory of Mitarai encouraging him to drink flashed into his mind. 

But what had happened beyond that was a total mystery to our photographer. He rubbed his eyes and groaned again. But he suddenly registered that the bed he had surrendered to wasn’t even his.

No seriously. What the fuck? Where the hell am I? 

He lifted himself slightly, careful this time not to make any sudden movements so that he could take in his surroundings. The photographer's eyes widen, and he held back an audible gasp. He was, without a doubt- not in his flat.

It was a hotel room, that was obvious enough. The executive suite Akihito was in was likely twice the size of his sorry excuse for a flat. The room was contemporary, light, and airy, the kind of jaw-dropping luxury you only saw in magazines or movies. There was a second separate sitting room that Akihito could just make out just beyond the bedroom he was lying in. Yet, Akihito could hardly think about how attractive the interior was. When in the back of his mind, he knew that a single night here was probably more than what he made in a week.

Last night was still a jumble, and he was just as mystified as to how he had ended up here. Did he even have enough money in his bank account right now to pay for this room?

As much as he struggled to make sense of his situation, somethings were crystal clear. It was starting to look like Akihito came here… with someone. And it was, most definitely not with Mitarai.

No. It looked more like Akihito had gone to this hotel room with someone, and they had evidently spent a _lively_ night together. Somehow that small bit of clarity did nothing to quell his mind.

_A-one-nightstand? Me? Did I go momentarily crazy last night?_

Akihito could feel his face going warm, but he couldn’t knock himself out of the daze of his own thoughts. He never thought he could be so bold. On occasion, Akihito would have wild excursions with his friends. He’d even done his fair share of stupid drunken escapades. But, never a one-night stand. Had he lost all sanity?

He still hadn’t wholly pieced together who he had left with. At present, he was trying his best to picture the women's face, or what she had worn. He only half-remembered ogling some fairly attractive women at the event. At the time, he wouldn’t have even dared to attempt to converse. 

Clearly, drunk Akihito had no apprehension about it. He couldn’t believe he’d been so ambitious.

He looked around the room for more answers. But he only saw the evidence of clothes haphazardly thrown in all directions. 

It didn’t take long for him to notice that there clearly wasn’t a women’s dress on the ground. But instead, a dark-colored suit jacket, neatly hanging over an armchair. 

It wasn’t his. It was far too big to be his. He looked wide-eyed at it for a moment.

He could feel his once flushed cheeks draining pale with distress. Nausea in his stomach suddenly turned into knots of dread.

 _A m-man? I-I left.. w-with a man?_ Akihito's thoughts suddenly turned chaotic. 

_No. No, That can’t be right. I am not— No, no, no. th-this isn’t happening._

The throbbing in his lower back seemed to have answered questions that he wished hadn’t crossed his mind. He was frantic, but the particulars were still muddled. 

There was definitely another man involved. He couldn’t picture a face or any specific details—only a slight notion of the man's tall stature and thick dark hair. 

He recalled tugging on a suit lapel, confidently pulling the mysterious man into an open mouth kiss. Akihito could still make out the distant taste of the man's musky cologne and the faint smell of cigarettes that lingered on his lips, how he felt a hot wet tongue going down his throat. The sensation of two smolderingly warm bodies wrapped around each other. The way his breath hitched and sweat dripped and how his head rolled back in such fever. How strong hands liberated him of his clothing, and how they dug into his flesh and twisted him up like a pretzel befo—

 _WH-WHAT the heck.. was I just thinking just now? N-no No. Stop it_. 

The photographer tried to stop the dirty picture that was forming in his mind's eye. Yet, while his head was saying one thing, his body was saying something else entirely. A stinging shudder crept down his spine, and he couldn't help but flush at the thought of those fractured memories. 

_Am I.. gay?_

The thought had only marginally crossed his mind before. He would admit, he had thought about. Especially given, he was never very successful with girls. Although he always vehemently denied it. 

He had always convinced himself that relationships with women had never worked out because of some reason or another. Whether it was because he was constantly busy with work, or he'd say they weren't his type. Or maybe it was because he thought he would thwart Kou and Takato's chance of nailing a date. But now, all those excuses were looking very, very flimsy. 

_I always just …. assumed...I still like girls, right?_ He gulped. _I always thought …. I…was normal-_

He stopped himself. That one stung a bit.

_I- I am still normal. Th-This doesn’t change anything._

His mind was doing some kind of mental gymnastics, and he sensed a headache coming on. He could feel his eyes beginning to fill with tears in his confusion. 

He didn’t think he could ever explain this to Kou and Takato— let alone to his parents. Would they understand? Would they look at him differently? He didn’t want to know.

He had many questions swirling around. Why did he have to have to label it? Was it only a one-off, because he was drunk? What would he do if anyone ever found out?

When suddenly, a noise brought his rattled mind to attention. Akihito had been so fixated on his own thoughts that he hadn’t even realized that he might not be alone. There was a door on one side of the wall. It must have been the bathroom because Akihito suddenly made out the familiar sound of running water. Was someone taking a shower only a few yards away? Had it been going on this entire time?

_Shit._

He shoved the sheets away and swiftly ventured to step out of bed. 

It was a mistake. Akihito had forgotten that his legs were jello, and he plummeted to the ground with a loud thud. 

_________________________

The blond was the one that was drunk last night, the one so delirious with lust. 

So why was it that Asami felt like he was the one that had lost all reason last night? 

Why had Asami, from the start, acted so uncharacteristic?

For one, he had been distracted. Which was particularly egregious. He was so preoccupied with the blond that it had actually affected his job. Despite his best efforts, the contracts were by some miracle secured. 

Although since he had skipped out and hurried out of the negotiations, it was a subpar deal. Can you imagine? Japan's most notorious negotiator, making a shoddy deal?!

And why was it he had to rush out of the deal? Well… it was all because there was some scoundrel next to _his_ little blond. 

Passing him drinks, clearly plaguing him. The crime lord had sent Suoh over to take out the trash, long before their voice had even raised. 

And why? What was he so afraid of? Was he- jealous? Of that long-haired vagabond. No no. It was out of the question.

Asami was simply—… simply helping the young man out. That varmint clearly had ill-intentions. 

As if Asami had innocent intentions either. But that was beside the point.

Asami couldn’t just let someone swoop in and snatch away _his_ little prize. 

The crime lord was letting the hot water cascade down his back, and he rinsed himself idly under the showerhead. He was trying to concentrate, but there was no use in trying. He felt a smug smirk on his lips, but for the life of him, he couldn’t will it away. What had gotten into him?

He was beginning to feel a bit childish. As if he was some schoolboy, giddy with excitement over a shiny new toy, one that he wouldn’t dare share. He seldom felt this way before, but it both amused him and oddly fascinated him.

His thoughts were only about that little ball of chaos, currently curled up peacefully in the bedroom. The young blond had slept like the dead last night and was not likely to move a muscle for at least a bit longer.

_Where had I found such an intriguing little catch?… A genuine article, Indeed._

Asami had always prided himself on his ability to read people. But in this case, it only made the young man that much more perplexing.

Not many people openly showed their thoughts and emotions on their faces like that. He was expressive and unashamed about it.

He was authentic...

Which isn’t a common characteristic found in Asami’s line of work. It’s was a quality that would naturally not be found in the underworld. As to be expected. To be underhanded and deceptive was the hallmark of the criminal world. But even outside of the confounds of the underworld, it was still a rare-quality. The so-called respectable world was just as two-faced. Brimming with people with ulterior motives and similar bouts of lying. 

Not that Asami could claim he was such an upstanding citizen. It was just simply who he was and who he usually dealt with. 

Was that why the blond was so… so different? Was that the word he was looking for?

The boy proudly wore his soft-heart and naïveness on his sleeve. While all the same, he was brazen and self-assured. Innocent and docile at times, but then in a blink of an eye, he'd be erotic and insatiable. 

_So many contradictions rolled up into one inexplicable creature._

As he finished up his shower, the older man thought he should probably order the little rascal some breakfast before he roused. It would help with the hangover he was likely to have. He was even considering starting a bath. Since the young man's backside would likely be feeling very tender, given their night time exploits.

A sly smirk graced Asami's lips at that recollection. He was hoping, though, it wouldn’t be the end of their night time exploits. They were clearly _quite_ compatible in that department.

It only marginally occurred to Asami that the young man might not be as _enthusiastic_ as he was last night. But he was confident in his ability to negotiate. So self-assured that everything would go exactly as he wanted. Not that he had any reason not to believe it wouldn’t. Things usually always did go his way. No one can say no to Asami Ryuichi.

*Thud*

Asami’s ears perked up at the sudden noise. It took him a moment to register that it must be _his_ little blond stirring. The older man turned off the water and slowly pushed open the glass doors of the shower. He grabbed a towel and patted himself dry. Then he took one of the hotel's cozy white bathrobes and wrapped it around himself. He pushed open the bathroom door and strode into the bedroom. 

“Mor—“ He started. 

But he found he was only speaking to an empty bed in a vacant hotel room. The familiar *click* of a door closing in the other room hit his ears.

_Huh?_

_________________________

Akihito hightailed out of that hotel room faster than lightning.

His legs may have been jello, but they somehow went on autopilot as soon as he heard that dreaded sound of the shower being switched off. He never thought he could move so fast.

He grabbed his suit jacket and shoes before closing the door. He fumbled down the hallway. Attempting to slide on his shoes as he walked, trying to put himself together as best he could. 

Akihito knew when he left that he was leaving behind his belt and tie. His shirt was unbuttoned, and his pants were still half on as he sauntered down the hallway. It was by some miracle he didn’t trip and land face-first on the floor. But he didn’t dare stay another second longer. 

Quickly he called for the elevator. He was half-afraid that the man he left behind, whoever he was, might follow him out. So much so that he wasn’t the slightest bit concerned about how stupid he would look half-dressed in the elevator. But luckily, he had the lift to himself.

Meaning, he could adequately fix himself up before it landed in the lobby. He buttoned himself up and straightened out his shirt, tucking the dress shirt into his pants. He brushed through his hair with a hand and slipped on his jacket just as the elevator got to the lobby.

As he passed the front desk, it dawned on him that he wasn’t paying his fair share of the hotel bill. That guilt would probably gnaw at him for a while. Even so, he pushed it out of his mind. Remembering that he had spotted that Ermenegildo Zegna label on the other's suit jacket before he had dashed out of there. So he supposed he shouldn’t feel too bad.

He breathed a sigh of relief as he walked out the front doors of the hotel. Like a weight had been lifted from him. He walked to the nearest subway stop to head home.

As he arrived at his apartment complex. He recognized a familiar face waiting for him outside of the building. He groaned. He really didn't want to see Mitarai right now. The cameraman looked like he hadn’t waited long while he snacked on some food and sat on a bench.

“Akihito! There you are! I’ve been calling you for ages!” Mitarai got up from his seat when he spotted Akihito. 

“Mitarai. Nows not really a good time,” The photographer replied wearily. He was in no mood for Mitarai, his head was still pounding, and he was mentally still frazzled. 

“I came to give you back your camera.”

Oh right. Akihito had almost forgotten about that. He practically snatched the little device out of Mitarai’s hands when he removed it from his bag. 

“Taking a man's camera out from under him… you’ve gone too far this time, Mitarai!” Akihito fumed. “Is there anything _else_ you have to say to me!… like I don’t know? Sorry for getting you drunk, Akihito! Or maybe— Sorry for trying to kick you out of a story.” 

“Um. I am sorry about that.” He weakly apologized. He scratched the back of his head awkwardly as he spoke. “But you know I am the one that got kicked out of the fundraiser because of you.” 

“You got kicked out?” Akihito had forgotten that part of the evening. His eyebrows rose in surprise as he heard that. He wished he could have remembered Mitarai being dragged out, that might lighten his mood.

“Yeah! On my ass!” Mitarai practically hissed out. “I am still sore from when that huge guy twisted my arm when he was dragging me out. Let me tell yo-“ The rival photographer paused mid-sentence. He seemed to have finally taken in Akihito’s rather disheveled appearances. “Wait a minute, did you just get back?” 

Akihito just closed his eyes and signed. _Can’t Mitarai just leave me alone?_

“Wa-wait a minute. Did you-?” Mitarai stammered. But then his mouth curled into an evil grin. “Is this your- your walk of shame back home, Akihito?!”

Akihito rolled his head back and groaned irritably. He shook his head and ignored Mitarai. He walked past him and started to head into his apartment building. Mitarai, ever persistent, followed behind. 

“Here, I am complaining about how I was manhandled and kicked out. But you- you should be thanking me for helping you get laid!” 

Akihito suddenly had a distinct feeling that Mitarai wasn’t the only one that had been manhandled last night. The thought had him burning in annoyance. 

“Mitarai! Enough.” He barked back. He had walked into the courtyard of his building and was heading up the steps towards his apartment.

“Was she at least cute?” 

Akihito swirled around so fast and gave Mitarai a death glare. 

“That bad, eh?” Mitarai chided. The death glare Akihito gave went up tenfold. “Okay. Okay. I am sorry.” 

Once again, Akihito ignored him and shuffled for his keys in his pant pockets.

“Look. I came because the pictures I sent to the editor last night have already been nixed. Can you believe it?! Some higher-ups are kicking me off the case. I wanted to know if anything happened last night. Maybe after I got kicked out…what do you remember?” 

“I don’t remember anything, Mitarai. Please. My head is throbbing. Can we please do this another time?” He was seriously on his last legs now as he finally opened the door to his apartment. Without another word, he shut the door on Mitarai’s face.

He held back as he stepped into his apartment and leaned his back against the front door. 

His mind was still aflutter. He let out a deep breath that he hadn’t realized he had been holding. 

He waited until he heard Mitarai leaving. Until his knees sank, and he trickled down the door until he was crouching on the ground. The tears came faster than he could stop them. 

He knew he must have looked pretty damn pathetic crying in his doorway. But he had never been good at handling confrontations. 

That's what this was, wasn’t it? A conflict that shook up his entire sense of self. He preferred to run away and avoid such emotional turmoil. 

To stay inside the closet, where he could remain blissfully ignorant. 

The fact that he was drunk made everything all the more filled with uncertainty.

Who was the man he had slept with? Was he old or young? Handsome or ugly? Did Akihito go with him willingly or reluctantly? 

Or worse still, did he actually enjoy it all?

_Get a hold of yourself, Akihito. T-this changes nothing. You w-were drunk a-and you did someth-something you would normally never do, and you’ll never do it again._

That was all he wanted to say on the matter. After a moment, he picked himself up from the door frame and wiped the tears off his face. He slid off his shoes and headed into the apartment. 

He felt suddenly fortunate that he had been drunk. There would be less for him to dwell on. 

None of those questions would matter once he sunk this memory so far down that it would never see the light of day ever again.

He exhaled in an attempt to calm his jittering nerves. It’s over and done with. He reminded himself. 

He headed towards his bathroom. Ready to take a deep soak in the bathtub and wash away the disquiet he felt in his gut.

_________________________

It was around this time when the evening dusk had fallen, and the city crept into the night that Asami took his cigarette breaks. He’d swivel around in his brown leather chair and take out a pack of his favorite Dunhill cigarettes, and enjoy the view from his office.

But tonight, as he took his cigarette break, he was not alone. Nor did he get to enjoy the view from his office window. Instead, he sat back in his chair as he took a nice drag of his cigarette. He was letting the silence permeate the room as he continued smoking. 

The crime lord was never shaken by silence. It didn’t unnerve him in the way that it did others. Even so, he found that silence was a useful tactic that rattled subordinates and enemies alike.

His mouth in a tepid line, and his golden orbs blankly stared at the man in front of him. The look of displeasure on his face could have sent anyone into a cold sweat. Asami exhaled the smoke in his mouth, and it lingered around him in a hazy cloud. 

“So… What you're saying is- you have nothing.” The deadpan expression on Asami’s face said it all. “What exactly, pray tell, am I paying you for then?”

For a moment, the man in front of him appeared too frozen stiff to speak. But finally, the words left his mouth. 

“Asami-sama, There was no one on the invitation list that matched the description. He didn’t go through normal security checkpoints. We believe he was some kind of party crasher. We have sent his image through some facial recognition software, but it will take some time before we hear back from that… the footage was, unfortunately, rather grainy. So that could make ID’ing him a bit complicated. There are other avenues we can look into, but it’s gonna take some time before we come back with anything concrete.”

“I expect results by tomorrow then,” Asami answered cooly. He snubbed out his cigarette harshly on the ashtray on his desk. “Do not disappoint me.”

“Yes, sir Asami-sama.” The man bowed and turned to exit the office. 

Asami had been fuming, to say the least, since this morning. Although what use was it in taking it out on some useless private detective. 

But seriously, how hard was it to find one blond boy? All the money in the world, and somehow no one could put a name to a face.

He was starting to wish the boy had divulged more while he was drunk and honest. He hadn’t said his full name, nor what his occupation was. Although that was partially Asami’s own fault, he was much too eager to rid him of his pants to worry about such trifling details.

Still, a party crasher? Well, Asami had known from the beginning that the blond was cheeky. So he supposed it shouldn’t have surprised him that the boy had snuck into the fundraiser. But for what reason?

Although, the real question that stumped Asami was why the young man had bolted in the first place.

He saw the security footage showing how he slipped out of the hotel room half-dressed, with a frazzled look in his eyes. Was he upset about something? Confused? But what was there to be confused about? 

Didn’t things go nicely? Hadn’t Asami at least deserved- He stopped at that thought for a moment. 

What he deserved? Hmmm. It was just a hookup. A one-night-stand. Did he have expectations when he shouldn’t have had any?

How many one-night-stand had Asami had? They had always been meaningless encounters, where he, himself, wouldn’t have thought twice about leaving without a word. Usually doing so during the wee hours of the morning, after he had gotten what he wanted. 

So why…why was he doing so much? Going this far. Hiring a detective, using facial recognition to try to hunt him down. And for what reason exactly? 

Was he mad because, for once, the script had been flipped on him? Asami thought he knew how this would end that he’d have his way. That he’d be _entertained_ for the night. Hadn’t he gotten what he wanted… 

Why did it matter that the boy had left without a word…Was it because it was different…that he felt… different.

That Asami wanted...more.

 _No. Impossible._ Asami quickly shooed the thought out of his mind.

No, His curiosity had been piqued. That was it. Nothing more than that. Asami was only mad because... because he wasn't done sampling the boy. That's it. Aki-chan had left and ignored Asami. 

No one can turn a blind eye to Asami Ryuichi.

It was inexcusable. Yes. That's right. That's why he had to find him. Find him and …and...

Asami slumped in his chair. ….and what? He hadn’t even truly considered what he would do once he had tracked the boy down. 

Moreover, he seemed to be realizing the mental gymnastics he had done to come to this conclusion. The flaws of his logic were so evident. 

What had gotten into him? 

Is this what this boy had done to him. Was Asami truly so consumed by the blond that he’d really go to these lengths? 

Asami was acting recklessly and witho— 

_Without control._

Now, that sent an unpleasant shiver down Asami’s spine. He really didn’t like where this thought was heading. In fact, he was starting to not like at all where this was going. 

It was true he was unexplainably fascinated with the boy, and it was more complicated than just morbid curiosity. But where would this... this obsession take him. 

Nowhere good, that's for sure.

Why was he stirring up the pot? Wasn’t it better to leave things as they were?

Aki was just a civilian, just a normal boy. One that didn’t deserve to be dragged down into Asami’s world. It was even likely, that was the reason he took off in the first place. Why would anyone want to get tangled up with the likes of Asami Ryuichi? 

Asami should let sleeping dogs lie. 

Aki had left and presumably didn't want to be found. And going by the fact that the universe had made it that much harder to find him- it felt like it was just simply not meant to be.

Asami blinked upon coming to that conclusion, he signed. Even so, he pushed a button on the intercom on his desk. 

“Kirishima… cancel that private investigator.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry to end it like that. :( 
> 
> I hope you guys will like the final chapter coming next week and the "ending"
> 
> also do u know how sad it was for me to write that scene where Asami is actually excited and wants to buy breakfast and stay with Akihito but then Akihito just ditches him. :''( aki is such a meanie.


	4. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Damn. Endings are hard to write. I was getting sick of constantly changing it and editing it, I know in my mind that job will never be done. So i just wanted to bit the bullet and post. 
> 
> I don't know if its what you guys were expecting. But i hope you like it none the less. 
> 
> Spoiler Alert: Its a prequel actually. 
> 
> Anyway. I just wanted to say thanks again to everyone who stayed for the ride. This has been my first fic and my first venture into writing creatively. I was a little shell-shocked when we passed 200 kudos. 
> 
> I also wanted to announce that I will be posting other finder fics i've been working on, very soon! Including a special fic just for Akihito's upcoming birthday on May 5th so Stay tuned Y'ALL!
> 
> Also is anyone else like SO excited for the new chapter of finder that's was just released, I already saw some pictures, and i am already ready to CRY (in JOY) even thou i am scared of what will happen.

**About 8 Months Later:**

“Jackpot!”

Akihito moved over the edge of the rooftop. Camera positioned at the ready. He peered through his viewfinder to confirm the faces of the men standing in a room just across the street.

He scoffed when their faces came into view. Akihito wished he could be a fly on the wall during this shady deal. But it was enough, at least, that he was here and his pictures would turn out good.

It had turned out to be a pretty big tip, and it would probably lead to a pretty hefty paycheck to boot. The photographer beamed happily, thinking of that nice round number he would likely receive. Maybe even more if the story really picked up traction. 

He had been on this rooftop for hours now, freezing his ass off. The targets were unfortunately late, and Akihito was starting to think the tip-off was wrong. But sure enough, they made their appearances.

The secretary of an influential diet member in a meeting with a small-time manager of some high-class night club in downtown Shinjuku. Since the tip ended up being right, Akihito presumed he’d have to do some background digging on the club. See what kind of ties it had.

What was the name of the club, again? 

_uh?… Club Sion?_

_Hm. Never heard of it…_

_______________________

“Asami-sama”

The blue neon lights of the city gleamed and glistened just behind the man. He was standing by his usual window in the office, his back to his secretary. He hadn’t heard Kirishima entering, which was unusual for the man, but he supposed his mind was…preoccupied.

He turned to face his secretary, hands in his pocket, and a Dunhill cigarette loosely hanging from his lips.

“About the photographer incident from yesterday, sir…I wanted you to know that we’ve stopped it with the publishers, but it seems the police are now sniffing around the club. What shall we do about it?” Kirishima continued.

Asami didn’t let his expression change. He was too schooled in appearing composed for any hint of a problem to show on his face. He answered his secretary as if it was business as usual. 

“I am not worried about the police. I am sure they can be persuaded with some pocket change.” 

He paused for a moment after his reply, thinking over that “What shall we do” question Kirishima had posed. 

He couldn’t help but peek a glance at the open file on his desk. One that he had scoured over only a few hours beforehand before he finally answered Kirishima. 

“Leave the rest to me.”

“Yes, sir,” Kirishima replied. He bowed and promptly exited the crime lord's office.

Asami exhaled as his secretary left. The dossier compiled was sprawled out on his desk, and he walked forward to glance at it. It featured copies of government documents, employment files, and on top-, a pile of photographs. 

Asami had to relent. _He_ had a sharp eye, no doubt. But poor instincts when it came to choice of targets.

The crime lord picked up one of the photos and examined it once more. 

His mouth impulsively formed into that infamous wide smirk. His golden-eyes seemed to glisten as he scanned the young man's boyish features and the smiling face he was flashing in the photographs.

He hummed playfully to himself, “Hmm… Takaba Akihito? A young and promising freelance photographer, huh?” 

_______________________

The universe works in mysterious ways. Doesn’t it? 

The irony of it all was not lost on Asami. It was now somehow Akihito who was inadvertently hunting Asami down. Long after, Asami had given up the search for him. 

He seemed not to have the faintest idea where his little investigation would lead him. Nor did he seem to know the story he was pursuing, the ghost he was chasing, the one responsible for all that he was investigating- was Asami. 

He probably had no idea who Asami was or that he was the same person he had slept with that night.

The crime lord slipped out a box of Dunhill's and pressed the cigarette to his lips. He lit it thoughtlessly with a sterling silver lighter that he always kept in his jacket pocket. He sat back in the limo, eyes still trained out the tinted windows. 

He had been sitting here, waiting for only about 20 minutes. The older man signed. He really didn’t like being kept waiting. He took a drag of the cigarette, letting the nicotine burn the back of his throat.

Since yesterday, Asami had Takaba’s apartment building staked out, and the boy tailed. His men reported that the blond was apparently, quite talented at recognizing when he was being followed. They had lost sight of him yesterday. 

An elusive one, wasn’t he?

Assuredly the young man returned to his apartment complex—a drab building in an unremarkable part of town. The young photographer was due to be leaving it reasonably soon.

Asami’s thoughts went back to the file he had read on the young man. The boy had a history of being a trouble maker. He was a delinquent in his youth, small-time offense mostly. Some youthful rebellion, some school fighting, trespassing, even breaking and entering - although those charges were dropped. Since he was a minor at the time, the files had been sealed. 

This probably explained why the private investigator could not find anything.

He cleaned himself up during his later high school years, was able to graduate with decent grades. After High School, he worked odd job after odd job. His somewhat unstable yearly earnings gave him a long list of landlords that complained about late payments. Until he eventually found his way working as a freelance photographer. 

While he took on many kinds of short-term photography contracts, photoshoots, and event photography, his primary source of income came from working as a photojournalist for a local magazine.

His specialty: Crime reporting and investigating.

Oh! The irony.

So he wasn’t a party crasher at all. Although, clearly, something went seriously awry, and he ended up spending the night in the arms of a notorious crime lord instead.

Now, his meddling had caused a lot of trouble for the crime lord. He crossed a line when he took incriminating pictures at one of Asami’s properties. A line no one normally dared to cross.

The story itself was easily quashed, thanks to Asami’s connections in the media, and he was confident the photos would never see the light of day. But still, It had also cost Asami money, not only in attempting to quell the whole thing up. On top of it, the diet member he was in talks with was worming out of the deal since he had heard that the press was on his tail. 

That was two deals now that the boy had tampered with. 

While the photos could be dealt with, it was the threat they posed that offended Asami. They were a blemish to his carefully crafted image—a transgression he couldn’t take lightly.

And even more, concerning to Asami was that the meeting had been leaked in the first place. Who was Akihito’s source of information? Who knew about Asami’s operations enough to leak such details to the press?

In any case, there’d be a reckoning, and Takaba Akihito was going to have to answer in full. 

It didn’t matter that they had once shared a bed. It didn’t matter that Asami had once… once thought fondly of him.

He couldn’t exactly let this go unpunished. 

Granted …that didn’t explain why the big boss himself had to deal with a pesky little problem like this one, personally. It was usually his policy that cleaning up annoyances like this was a job for underlings. Not for the Boss...

Unless it's for something particularly important to him...

What could he say...curiosity had gotten the better of him. He wanted to see the boy him for himself. 

He wanted to know if his memory had played tricks on him, and he had exaggerated the boy's features all this time. 

Not that he had thought about him…all that much…

No, no. He would categorically deny ever thinking twice about the Takaba boy.

He had definitely never once compared him to the _others_ he had taken since that night. And for that matter, it was just an unfortunate coincidence that he developed a sudden taste for blonds. Cheap imitations, though they were. 

Just then, the doors to the apartment complex flew open, taking Asami out of his usual bout of denials. And the young men in question exited the building. Asami leaned forward from his seat for a better view. It was still relatively early, just after 9 PM, but it was already dark outside. 

Even so, the older man recognized him instantly. The blond hair was the boy's telltale sign that gave him away immediately. It seemed even longer and just as bushy and unkempt, as memory had served.

His clothing was much more juvenile than Asami could have possibly imagined. Green cargo pants, a short sleeve khaki-like jacket, and a white long sleeve t-shirt underneath. Topped off with a pair of weathered sneakers. 

It somehow suited him more fittingly than that oversized suit he had attempted to wear at the fundraiser.

Akihito had stopped to talk to an older lady in front of a small local grocery store, right next to his apartment. The woman looked like she worked at the store, and the two spoke warmly to each other. Akihito’s whole face lit up as he spoke to the women. His round cheeks beamed with a dusty pink hue, those hazel eyes seemed to sparkle, and he covered his mouth to hide a toothy smile when he laughed at something.

Asami really hadn’t exaggerated. He was so much more boyish and lively than Asami could possibly conjure up. And frankly, the pictures hadn’t done him any justice either. 

An overwhelming part of Asami wanted to exit the limo right now. To walk over there and explain, they could talk this over. He’d be firm, but not cruel. That Akihito would be smart and tell him who his source was. That rational heads would prevail, and they could come to some kind of conclusion. 

Asami was a fixer by trade, after all— he could fix this.

He wanted to fix this. He wanted Akihito to look at him. 

To look _only_ at him. 

To recognize him and remember. Remember that he had also smiled so sincerely at Asami that night. To remember how he had greedily kissed the older man, how he had instinctively curled up next to Asami, seeking his warmth. 

To look at him and at least acknowledge that Asami existed. 

Even if it was _somewhere_ deep in the recesses of his mind, look at him, so Asami could see for himself if he had stirred something in the boy, in the way that Akihito surely had in Asami.

Was it regret that hit the older man now? That washed over him like a shallow wave. 

Regret that he had let the boy sneak away that morning. Regret that he hadn’t called that private investigator back. Regret that he had wasted so much time with his pointless denials. Regret that he hadn’t gone to the ends of abysses just to bring this stupid, stupid boy back to him. 

No. No, What was he thinking? 

One look and he was already back to his old habits. 

He had a job to do, he reminded himself. The boy had crossed a line. 

It’s been months _enough_ of this — this misguided sentiment. 

_The boy wanted a scoop? Huh? Well, I’ll give him a taste of what he’s after. One he won't forget so easily. I’ll sear it into his memory if I have to._

_______________________

Akihito was slammed into the wall, his arms already restrained behind him. By two well-built men in black and white suits. He had been pulled into the alleyway with such force and speed that he didn’t see it coming. 

Asami stepped into the alleyway, composed and coolheaded. This was his territory, and he was tired of playing nice. 

The boy hadn’t even remembered him, so why should he hold back? 

He wanted this over and done with now. To have Takaba Akihito a distant memory. And all he had to do, was put the fear of God into this cheeky little punk, rattle him a bit, and take the information he needed. 

Then make sure Akihito knew never to cross paths with Asami Ryuichi and his syndicate ever again. Then it’ll be over and done with.

“W-who the hell are you guys?!” Akihito stammered. “What do you think you’re doing?” He hadn’t noticed Asami yet, as he shouted at Suoh and Kirishima. 

“Takaba Akihito?” Asami strolled over to where they had him pushed against the wall.

Suoh and Kirishima were blocking Akihito’s view for a time. But the boy finally found the source of the voice behind him.

Eye’s widen, like a deer in headlights, when he looked at the older man. It was not the recognition Asami was looking for. Akihito only recognized the danger he was in. It must have unnerved him to hear his own name from his assailants. He managed to fumble out some words.

“Who…who are you..?” 

Asami’s winced at that, but it was the only sign of his irritation.

“Trouble like you, it isn’t good for business. I have some questions I’d like to ask you.” 

“What do you want with me? If you want the photos… I-I already threw them out! Now lemme go!” Akihito's voice raised slightly in his distress. 

Suoh and Kirishima had pushed his back against the wall, holding either side of him by the forearms. For all the boy's cheek and insolence, Asami found it undeniable satisfying to see him shaken and fearful. 

It was about time someone taught him some manners. 

Asami stepped in closer and loomed menacingly over the petite blond. A roguish grin on his face. 

“There’s nothing to be afraid of… Just answer my questions like a _good boy_ …Who was your source.”

That earned Asami a fiery glare. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I-I just found out about it, okay? What do my sources have to do with _you_?” 

That last part came out, especially venomous. So much so that Kirishima was so appalled by the boy's tone of voice. That he drove a hard and fast knee into the boy's gut. And pushed him into the forceful blow. 

At least it wasn’t between the legs. But still, it must have hurt since the boy slumped over and coughed to regain his breath. 

Asami was pretty royally pissed off at the boy, a little bit of brute force was completely justifiable in his mind.

“Disrespect will bring you nothing but pain… If you're going to nose around in some else’s business, I suggest you pay better attention to your surroundings.”

What happened next, Asami would later feel as if it had happened in slow motion, and he was just there to watch. Only it was just that unforeseen. To expect the unexpected, that was Asami forte. People acted predictably. A look was all it took for the crime lord to anticipate what would come next. It was how he had climbed to the top of the ranks in the underworld.

Was that why the boy was so infuriating? That he showed his emotions so clearly for the world to see, yet he was always somehow wildly unpredictable.

Akihito looked as if he was still recovering from the earlier blow, his body still slumped over, and his jaw clenched. Outnumbered and overpowered. The three men surrounded him earnestly believed that the situation was well in hand. That there was no hope of escape, no point in fighting back. That Akihito would give up his source, and that would be the end of it.

The boy responded through gritted teeth. “I already know that..”

As soon as the words came out of his mouth, he found the opening he was looking for. He flew his leg up in a powerful kick, and it walloped into Kirishima shin. Before anyone could react, he had already shaken off Suoh’s grip and was bolting down the alleyway.

His only chance was to run deeper into the alleyway. An opportunity presented itself in the form of an open door leading into one of the buildings. Akihito must have seen it earlier and mapped out his escape. He disappeared into it. 

Asami scoffed through grated teeth. 

_He' running. Again! Was that just his natural defense?_

The sight of him running. Ugh. It riled him up inside in a way he couldn’t explain. Only this idiot could do that to him. 

Here he was, actually thinking he could negotiate with some punk brat that he was actually considering going easy on him! That reasonable heads would prevail?! HA! 

Well. Negotiations were wildly off the table now. A street rat, like him, warrants a firmer hand.

Suoh and Asami were already hot on his heels. The open door leads to an empty stairwell. They could hear him pattering up the steps, a few flights ahead. Asami hears Suoh mention something about it leading to the roof. 

He was reminded suddenly that he was pretty sure he read somewhere in that file that Akihito had done track and field during High School. But the way the boy was running now, he looked more like a professional athlete. He had hardly broken a sweat as he sailed over the steps with ease. 

How many flights had they climbed? Six? Asami had lost track. They heard the door to the roof swing open a flight above them, and they were just as quickly behind. 

The doors opened, and a gust of cold evening wind greeted Asami. He was suddenly registering how heavy his breath was and that his brow was slightly damp with sweat. He hadn’t even realized how much pure adrenaline was pumping through him. 

It felt like ages since he had last felt a rush like that— A thrill of a chase. 

He stepped out on the roof with Suoh. Akihito had already run to the edge of the railing. He had put a careful distance between them. But there was no way off the roof, except the door they had just come from. Akihito turned around when he saw them stepping out from the staircase. A desperate look in his eyes, yet brimming with defiance and fury. 

“There’s nowhere to run now,” Asami called after him. He was stepping towards him.

“I’ve been in worse situations than being chased by a bunch of old Yakuza’s,” Akihito barked back. He beamed a brassy grin. 

Then without a second thought. Without an inch of hesitation. Akihito vaulted over the railing and headlong down the side of the building. 

_______________________

Asami’s heart skipped a beat. 

His thoughts raced frantically, and a powerful tide of horrible dread filled him. 

_God FUCK. What have I…._

He dashed to the railing. He couldn’t fathom what he had just witnessed. Was the boy really so desperate and suicidal! Or was it just sheer recklessness and youthful cockiness that compelled the boy to think he could jump off a building completely unscathed? 

He looked down the railing expecting to see the boy's broken and beautiful body splattered on the pavement below. 

Instead, golden eyes met hazel ones. Asami was also greeted with a cheeky pink tongue sticking out at him- just for good measure.

The little taunting noise Akihito made and that smart-ass grin he was toting was actually a very welcome sight to Asami. 

He had latched on to a neon sign attached to the side of the building. The vertical sign stretched the entire length of the building, down to the ground floor. The blond made it look easy as he descended down one level and then down another. When he reached the end of the sign, he was only a few feet above the pavement below. 

Suoh came up behind Asami, and they both watched in stunned silence. The blond had maneuvered down to the ground floor in the span of a few moments. 

They watched as he landed on the pavement like an agile cat and straightened himself out. His little gymnastic performance had earned him a small crowd. Although he didn’t stick around to collect their praises. 

He looked up at Asami and Suoh, grinning ear to ear. He gave them a causal salute in farewell. Then he turned around and lost himself in the crowd of people. 

Having been speechless and stupefied into absolute silence for the last minute, there was a pregnant pause. 

“Ah-ha. ahhaha…. Haha,” Asami dissolved into a burst of hardy laughter. Feeling suddenly light and as if the whole situation was so absurd and comical. 

After all, that had happened, it was the only thing he could think to do.

“Unbelievable. Did you see that?” He said through his laughs, a relaxed grin on his face.

Suoh looked on with bewilderment. He had rarely ever seen his usually stoic boss smile. Let alone bursting into a fit of laughter.

“Uh... Yes, sir,” Suoh responded clumsily. 

“I didn’t think he had it in him…” Asami voice had a hint of genuine admiration, his laughing had died down, but his trademark smirk was still intact

_It's been ages since I’ve had a real challenge._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I wanted to use the Notes to talk a little about what was going through my mind when i wrote this. You can choose to ignore. 
> 
> When I first started working on this, in my mind it was a comedy, and it defiantly took a different turn. As i tried to be more serious. I liked the idea that in some Alternative universe there relationship actually began where the script had been flipped, were for once Aki ties up Asami, and Asami is left tormented and confused. 
> 
> In an earlier version, when I was leaning towards it being a comedy. I actually had Aki riding Asami, after tying him up, coming on his own and then passing out. (HAHAHAH) Without Asami coming at all. and I thought that was sooo funny. but i also thought, there was no way Asami would let him get away with that. so I nixed it. I also wanted Asami to willingly give up the search. and i didn't think he would do that, it that situation. 
> 
> I also liked the idea that there was a "reason" that Asami acts the way that he acts in volume one. That he has already decided by the end of this chapter, that he can't ever let Aki leave his side- as he as already lived in a world where he didn't get to have his little photographer for a long (and probably lonely) 8 months. 
> 
> I love in this chapter when aki is like club sion? never heard of it. I was literally was like YOU BRAT!! 
> 
> Something that i don't think is expressed a lot in other fics is this idea that, its not just Akihito who's life is turned upside down when he meets Asami. That Asami most defiantly feels that Akihito makes his world all topsy turvy too- and I hope that comes across in this fic.
> 
> Another thing, which is harder to explain, but was a big influence for this fic was the idea that Aki ignores him. That Aki doesn't even acknowledge him, that aki "Looks away from his gaze" (but to be fair he doesn't even remember him) I feel like this is big insecurity for Asami, but also a major theme about Asami's possessiveness that is throughout the canon story. That he wants Akihitos attention on him, all the time.
> 
> I also think it's very believable that Asami never tells Aki that they actually met before.
> 
> Anyway was probably thinking of doing a 2nd Epilogue, but it probably won't come out for a bit. Thanks to those that took the time time to read this!


	5. Extra Episodes: OUTTAKES

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay. I know it's been AGES since i posted for this.... 😭
> 
> unfortunately, this is not the long-awaited Epilogue that i promised, but it IS in the works so have no fear. 
> 
> Instead, these are some outtakes. They are scenes that I cut from the original and I was thinking about using elsewhere (potential in black and white since I was working on that). I never finished them nor did I decided to use them in black and white. So I figured I would share them from where they were originally supposed to go.
> 
> For these three episodes, I take you back in time! They would have gone after CH 3 before CH 4.
> 
> so ENJOY! ❤️❤️
> 
> posting a bit of an explanation as i sometimes like to do at the end, you can choose to ignore if u want.

**EXTRA EPISODE 1:**

**INTERIORS**

**After Chapter 3:** ****

“Good evening sir,” Kirishima opened the door to the limo for him and said his usual good-byes for the day.

Asami only nodded as he stepped out of the limo and headed towards the doors of his apartment complex.

He was silently thanking Kirishima for his discretion from the last few days. He’s starting to realize he had acted a little unlike himself - but through it, all his loyal secretary hadn’t said a word about it.

Asami was feeling a bit thankful for that. I mean, he had gone a little out of character and all for some random ‘party crasher’ blond. What had gotten into him? He’d never been so rash before…

Ditching his important client, and not just any important client- A diet member! Fumbling up his important deal and the government bonds he needed to get for his other clients. Using ‘company’ resources to find said blond.

Oof. It was by some miracle Kirishima hadn’t whacked him upside the head and told him to get a hold of himself.

But now, it was over. He had called off that private investigator, and everything would return to normal- he would return to normal.

As he stepped inside the building, the man at the reception desk, who was actually one of his guards, greet him at the door with a polite nod as he called for the elevator.

He took it all the way up to the top floor and got out. He jiggled with his keys for a moment as he took the few steps to get to the doorway of his apartment.

The door opens unceremoniously, and he takes a moment to take his shoes off in the genkan. He flickers on a few more lights as it is dark and noiseless inside the _empty_ apartment. 

He steps in and takes off his wristwatch on a nearby table, and then he plops his briefcase and coats down at a chair. Then he turns around, and he heads deeper inside, to the shower. There he peels off his suit and hops into the shower. And when he gets out, he wraps himself up in a comfortable bathrobe and pours himself a drink for the evening.

It’s was the usual monotonous routine after a long day at work. His movements around his apartment were very habitual. It had been like that for as long as he could remember.

He’ll go into his kitchen, and open his empty fridge and take out whatever alcohol he usually stores in there. He pours himself a glass of whatever expensive vintage and gets some ice. And then he’ll sit in the living room and either watch some news channels, or he’ll read the newspaper. He usually will read some financial news or catch up on some stock news.

A quiet evening in a quiet apartment.

He always enjoyed that bit of calm. Especially since his days were normally hectic and long. But tonight, as he settled into his seat. It felt… unusual solitary.

He looked around his apartment. Thinking about it. He was told that the previous owners had a very particular taste. They had built everything to a specific and meticulous style. He had seen no reason to change anything when he moved in. And frankly, he liked it that way.

Everything was in its proper place, orderly and structured. Things had stayed exactly the way they had always been, for as long as he could remember.

The interior furniture was all from high-end brands, made from high-end materials. He knew the previous owner had collected some fine antiques and handcrafted furniture and art. A few priceless vases were lying around and some paintings and prints from respected modern artists. He had a sudden thought that everything in this apartment probably had some reasonable value to it.

Except as he was looking around, he’s maybe starting to realize that all these _fine_ objects held no real value to himself. Priceless as they probably all were, and yet just _things_ to him in a long list of other priceless _things_. They held no real value or meaning - they were just replaceable.

Just like everything else in his life.

He stops himself short. Why was he even thinking about such things? It was just furniture, for gosh sakes!

Of course, the whole point of furniture was for it to be priceless, pretty, and useful. And when it was broken or no longer of use- it was replaced. That was only logical!

Surely if they were not useful, then what would be the point in even keeping them around. It seems like it would be a waste of space. They wouldn’t fit into his life and would probably clash horribly with the rest of the room.

He _liked_ the way things were now. He was _used_ to the way things flowed effortlessly, like a well-oiled machine. To change everything and pull everything out of order, what madness would ensue?

An- And — Was he still thinking about furniture?…

Asami rolls his eyes and shoos those lingering thoughts away.

It’s not like he knew any other way…

He’s starting to think it was the smartest decision he’d ever made to cancel that private investigator…

That blond boy would surely only lead to his _ruin_ …

* * *

**_Extra Episode 2:_ **

**_ORIGINS_ **

“It wouldn’t hurt to show your face, Asami-sama” Kirishima was doing his best to push the issue— while also not trying to _force the issue_. His secretary was a master at playing both sides. 

“Some of the other club owners are gonna be there. They implied that if you even just make an appearance at the event, it would help their cause immensely.” He continued.

Another work-related function that he just HAD to go to.

And after that last fundraiser two weeks ago… Asami wasn’t particularly in the mood for another one… not that he was… still hung up over it or anything. No. Of course not. He had decidedly put that one to bed and shut the door on it.

“I’ll think about it,” Asami answered diplomatically.

The event was for a political cause. Local business leaders in the night club industry were meeting to discuss their objections to some new regulations. It would likely benefit him and his business— he had no real reason not to go.

And the more he thought about it, the more it seemed like this could actually be a good opportunity for him. A chance to get whatever it was about… about _him_ \- out of his system for good.

Just what the doctor ordered! A new meaningless, no-strings-attached hookup.

“Kirishima... Make the necessary arrangement. I’ll go.” He finally answered after a moment.

His secretary, as impassive as he usually appeared, beamed a bit at the news. It was entirely likely his secretary knew exactly what he needed to get his mind off of.

“Yes, Sir. Asami-sama.” He bowed and left the office.

Asami had thought long and hard about that _last_ dalliance, and he had come to some defining thoughts about it.

For starters, he normally went to events like these with an escort. Someone that would be attached to his arm from the get-go. These “dates” were usually pre-arranged for him, whether it was with the daughter of some political ally, some small-time celebrity, model, or socialite, and on some occasions, they were just top-notch paid escorts.

Sometimes the purpose was about brokering some kind of deal or fulfilling some arrangement, or maybe they were hired to fulfill some bodily needs. Sometimes the aim was simply to maintain Asami’s persona as Tokyo’s most eligible bachelor and have some pretty lady glued to his arm.

They had their given role. They weren’t courtships. They didn’t require something touchy or extra effort. Asami wasn’t meeting them to “woo” them or something soppy like that. They were discrete, and they never overstepped their bounds.

Things like preferences were unnecessary in his line of work - they were usual drop-dead gorgeous by anyone standards anyway. Men or women, it never really made much of a difference to Asami.

It was just business. A transaction. Where both parties got something out of it.

What happened two weeks ago was an anomaly on many different fronts.

For one, there was no transaction. The boy didn’t want Asami's money. He had left before any kind of exchange could even take place. But, it was more than that…The cheap suit, the glee he had for a simple hotel room—the fact he was a party crasher, as the private investigator had discovered.

It wasn’t that hard to guess that the boy wasn’t used to simple luxuries. Like most of the people, Asami surrounded himself with.

And Yet…he hadn’t even wanted Asami to even pay for his drink. He didn’t want anything. He was swayed with just the simple promise of getting fed.

He didn’t seem to have any inkling of who Asami was or what he did for a living. Nor did he care. Which was somehow beyond refreshing to Asami.

There was no promise of a business agreement or any kind of bargaining. In fact, it was obvious the boy had no head for business whatsoever.

He was just…ordinary.

For a man like Asami, who spent his day to day and probably the entirety of his life and career doing the _extraordinary_.

There was something of a novelty to that.

The night had clearly taught Asami that _maybe_ he needed a little break from the constant pressure of work. That he needed to choose for himself- at least every so often, who he felt like bedding. And not have all his decisions be about what is seen as valuable or useful.

That there was value… outside of what a person could put in your pocket…

 _Ugh. God._ He cringed at sentiments he was making.

But goddamn it, a part of him knew there was some truth to it. It wouldn’t hurt if he, for once, didn’t always have “the job” on his mind, especially when it came to something as basic as who he choices to sleep with.

That was at least a valuable lesson learned from last weeks… disaster.

So he would go to this event where all that was required of him was to show up. Then he’d pick someone himself and see where the evening would take him.

And he would definitely, and I mean definitely not think about that blond boy.

_________________

“They say that new and young manager of Club Oban down in Shibuya District is here tonight. Very promising they say,”

It was a business associate talking, and Asami was only half listening. A drink of champagne was in his hand as he pretended to listen amicably to the man in front of him.

“Yes. They say he’s apparently very easy on the eyes.” Another associate chimes in with a laugh. Asami only nods, but he can hardly care. He wonders vaguely if there's anyone more enlightening to talk to.

“A blond, too!” A woman who's in the group suddens adds to the conversation.

 _A blond?_ Asami perks up in interest.

The business associates had moved on from that conversation and had moved on to something else, but Asami has all but tuned them out as he scans the crowd.

Blond hair was a rarity at events like these and would certainly stick out in a crowd like this.

_Could it be…_

He meticulously surveyed the crowd, searching for a recognizable blond head. But, he came up short. No one had blond hair in this crowd.

He sighs internally, realizing once again how ridiculous he was acting—one mention of a blond, and somehow his attention went out the window.

After a moment, he politely excused himself from the group. He wanted some air and a smoke. So he headed out to the French doors that lead to a small balcony. It's much less crowded over there. He leans his elbows on the balcony railing and takes in the evening breeze while he exhales some smoke.

He spends a moment hoping that his little moment of privacy isn’t disturbed. At least, long enough that he can finish a Dunhill.

He noted that this “choosing for yourself thing” was a lot harder than he had anticipated. Sure beautiful people at an event like this were abundant. But none had really piqued his interest in the way that “He-who-must-not-be-mentioned” had.

He found himself hesitating, or else debating, or else comparing and contrasting. There was none of that immediacy. Was he always this picky…

It had not gone at all as planned. In fact, he realized he was only thinking more and more about the blond, the more he tried to convince himself that he wasn’t.

Perhaps he should give in to whatever craziness it was that was causing him to act like this and call back that damned investigator. Pride and sanity be damned.

Just as the thought was leaving his mind, he senses someone has come up next to him. He almost groans and thinks to himself how he can’t even enjoy a cigarette break alone. He elects to ignore them, as if he can’t sense them leaning against the railing same as him, only five feet away.

But out of the corner of his eyes, he sees something. The wind is blowing, and he sees the ends of silvery blond hair rustling in the wind next to him.

Pupils dilate, and breath hitches. He whips his head around so fast. He probably gives himself whiplash.

_Aki?_

But reality is never quite so serendipitous, and it hits like a brick to the face instead.

It’s not the blond he was hoping for, and his face drops.

This blond in front of him has seen his sudden movement and looks at him a bit befuddled. 

“Ugh. I-uh..thought you were someone else,” Asami fumbles to act naturally.

“I’m sorry if I startled you.” The blond gives an understanding nod. “Your ah- Asami Ryuichi, are you not?”

Asami examines the young man in front of him. He is similar in many ways to _him._ A bit older looking, his blond hair is slightly longer and a slightly different tone. His hair is smooth and straight, not a frizzy mop.

The only things the two have in common are attractive looks and blond hair.

He’s a bit older and mature looking. The suit he’s wearing is a recognizable designer label, tailored nicely, unlike someone.

One look and Asami can tell this new blond is from a good family, well mannered, respectful, and tasteful.

Everything that another certain blond was not.

They were essential opposites.

He responds with a quick nod. And stands up straight from the railing and looks out on the night sky while he finishes his smoke.

“I’m afraid I don’t know your name. But….Could I interest you in a drink?” Asami responds after a pause.

The blond in front of him seemed just like what the doctor ordered…

__________________________

“Ugh- My type?”

Asami thinks it's a profoundly silly question, but he knows it’s just some coyness and light teasing the other is playing at. So he’ll play along. He nonetheless thinks on it before responding.

“Well…” He takes another swig of his drink and places it carefully down on the table in front of him. Nothing is really coming to mind, honestly, and he gives up. “I don’t really know. I suppose I can just tell with a look if they're _my_ type or not…I guess.” he trails off.

“But surely a man of your caliber has…I don’t know- standards.” The blond pushes.

“I suppose,” He answers flatly, and he shrugs his shoulders. He pretends not to hear that line- ‘man of your caliber.’ But he supposes he should be used to a bit of flirtatious flattery.

The blond smiles promiscuously and chuckles. “I only mean- You’ve probably seen it all. I imagine you’d like the more sophisticated type of person. Someone worldly, and of the same mind as you.”

Asami thinks on it for a moment. A s _ophisticated type?…._ He had honestly never really thought about it. But the suggestion suddenly made him think of something else.

“Huh. Yes….Yes! Definitely wouldn’t be interested in some _bratty_ type.” He sits up straighter suddenly in the booth after having thought on it. “And- and someone refined…Yes. Someone who can dress themselves properly. Maybe even has a head for business. I don’t know. It’s important in my line of work to have some - You know someone who can be a _real_ partner…” He blinks as the words seem to slip out unconsciously.

Where was all of this coming from? He clears his throat and turns his head over to the blond, who looks unchanged.

“Yes. I know _exactly_ what you mean.” The blond responds, and he slyly places a hand on Asami’s thigh under the table.

It’s an obvious and deliberate action, a subtle - or rather not-so-subtle act.

Some tiny part of him can’t help but know exactly what kind of person this blond is, just like every other person who comes into his life.

A social climber. A spineless sycophant. Someone who wants something in return. Ready to grovel for even the slightest bit of attention.

But another part of him is trying to completely silence that which he knows deep down to be true.

Maybe it’s simply because this blond in front is frankly very attractive, and by all accounts, the manager of Club Oban was an astute and savvy businessman. Plus, it’s been two weeks since he’s had a good fuck, and he’s truthfully itching for it. 

Or maybe he knows deep down that some _slutty doormat_ is exactly what he needs right now. To remind himself who he is and what he does. That there's no room for anyone in his life other than that revolving door of _eager beavers_ like this one. That what he _truly_ needs from the people in his life is only to be a useful and obedient pawn.

And right now, he just wants to forget… and he wants some semblance of control…

_______________________________

Well, the entire situation blows up in his face. It only makes him think more of what he wishes to forget.

What he hadn’t anticipated was that when it came to any thoughts about a certain blond. All semblance of control was completely gone.

It has almost nothing to do with this new blond, whose name Asami has already forgotten. His face is forgetful, and his body just as much. The problem arises whenever his eyes landed on this new blond… for all he sees, and all he thinks is about _his_ blond.

 _His_ lovely golden-haired blond with expressive hazel eyes, and dewy skin, and perfectly portioned body. He so clearly wants it to be _his_ blond that he completely loses himself to the fantasy of it.

It’s driving him crazy and even slightly angry because somewhere in the back of his mind, he knows it’s not _his_ blond.

And it’ll never be _his_ blond…no matter what he pretends otherwise.

He leaves early in the morning when this blond is still asleep after his needs have been met. And the fantasy just peels away, and it feels like a bucket of cold water instead.

He realizes he back to acting ridiculous, with these silly and whimsical ideas like he could replicate whatever it was that he had with Aki…

But there was no replicating, not with some cheap imitation…

____________________________

**_A WEEK LATER:_ **

“Pleasure doing business with you,” Asami shakes the _other_ blond's hand and gives him a cordial smile.

The only thing in reply Asami gets back are expectant eyes. Asami ignores the look, not just because now the man is his employee, and it would be bad to mix business and personal feelings…

But mostly, he does it because Asami is apparently completely back to his usual self, with hook up’s and one-night stands back in business.

Asami, Kirishima, and the _other_ blond have just worked a deal for the purchase of Club Oban. A nice little trade-off that he probably wouldn’t have gotten if he hadn’t slept with the manager and gotten an introduction with Club Oban’s owner.

It really is always transactional, isn’t it?…

Asami has no reason not to agree to the deal. It’s actually a pretty good deal, and he should be pleased that he gets a new trendy club at a quarter of the price he would normally be paying for it.

See? There was value in _very_ useful and obedient pawns.

They all stand up from the table after the documents have been signed and skirt around the booth to get out. They walk around the club a bit more, although they’ve already been given the tour.

It hasn’t opened for the night. Although after the deal they’ve just made, it would likely get some new construction.

“The name Club Oban… I don’t think it suits the kind of clientele Asami-sama and Sion Corp. is trying to harness with this club in particular.” Kirishima explains as they look around the empty club. “I think we’ll have to do a name change…”

The blond thinks on it for a moment before answering. “How about…Club Dracaena,”

Asami’s hardily listening, as it’s just simply another deal in a line of many to him. “Whatever you think will work…Sudou.”

* * *

**_EXTRA EPISODE 3:_ ** ****

**_CUPID_ **

It was **not** in his job description to play match-maker or even to have any kind of say in his boss's personal life. But Kirishima was faced with a dilemma.

To show the boss the file. Or not to show the boss the file. That was the question.

It _was_ in his job description to keep out unnecessary things so his boss could stay focused and not be weighed down by trifling issues.

But did this qualify as _unnecessary_ information?

A photographer taking pictures at one of his clubs? It was vaguely it was important. But it could easily be handled by one of Asami’s underlings, and not necessarily by the boss himself…He surely had more important things to do than dealings with…brats.

Kirishima had already told him about the gist of the problem, and he had seemed uninterested, so it would be reasonable to presume that Kirishima should just delegate the task of clean it up for somebody else.

BUT, new issues had arisen.

Oh yes. The secretary had recognized that spiky-haired demon boy the moment he laid eyes on that file. He was unsure how his boss would react, especially since Kirishima knew very well how Asami had brief gone looking for him.

He was weighing his options and believed at the end of the day. Asami had the right to know. And decided for himself what to do about this bratty brat little photographer.

___________________

Kirishima entered the office tactfully.

He'd go about usual business, and then he’d give himself the opportunity to drop the file on Asami’s desk- and then high tail out of there.

“-And then you have your meeting at the docks after that…” Kirishima finished up his usual bit of delivery with a small reminder.

Asami was occupied. His eyes were glued to a briefing while Kirishima finished off. He only looked up briefly when the secretary appeared finished and then seemed to notice the file still pressed against Kirishima’s chest.

“And uh- what's that?” Asami asked, gesturing to said file and then turning his attention back to his briefing.

“Oh, um. This is some new information about that photography incident from last night. The - ugh... The photographer’s personnel file.” Kirishima said.

He gently placed the file down on the edge of the boss's oak desk where it stood there alone and away from the other files he had placed down. Asami didn’t look up from his readings until Kirishima nudged it a bit closer to him.

“It’s an interesting read, Sir.” Kirishima continued. He cleared his throat in the process, trying his hardest to keep his poker face intact.

Asami’s eyes narrowed in confusion, looking at his secretary. He was probably a bit confused over his secretary's odd word choices. Kirishima only gave him a flat expression, and then he slowly backed away from the desk one sly step at a time.

“If that’ll be all, sir. I’ll be right outside.” Kirishima lowered his head and then quickly scooted out of there as quickly as could be, ignoring the puzzled looks his boss was giving him.

He closed the door on his way out and then settled into his own desk, which was right outside Asami’s office.

The secretary wasn’t sure if it was the right thing to do.

A part of him shuddered a bit at the thought of the consequences of what he had chosen to tell Asami.

The potential for his boss to display bizarre behavior when it came to that blond boy. Or worse still, the thought of- Kirishima's precious schedules getting ruined.

But some other part of Kirishima, perhaps a deeper one, thought about what the _unseen_ consequences would be if he had _not._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am just gonna BLAB here: 
> 
> episode one:   
> I LOVE talking about interiors okay?! And frankly, I feel like the penthouse, in particular, is used a lot by sensei to dig into Asami's character sometimes. since he is not so open about his feelings or anything else. I always pictured his apartment as being filled with like Le Corbusier furniture or Frank Lloyd Wright - kinda mid-century Avant-grade kinda furniture.   
> but every time i think about the penthouse I always think about one of my favorite extra's; "The day young Businessman Ryuichi Asami's little monster came"   
> Where he looks back at his life pre-Akihito - he takes a shower he gets a drink, he reads a newspaper the apartment is silent VS him now with Akihito. the domestic stuff is sometimes a little strange to him, bags chips fall down on him, the fridge is magically full, Akihito breaks things- the comparisons are so stark. His life is maybe a bit more loud and chaotic, but it's so much more full of life. There is also a great scene when Akihito runs away after Sudoh takes his key- Akihito has been saying that whole volume about how they are often missing each other and Akihito kinda jokingly says "I forget about him sometimes"- which is obviously not true as we see Akihito always passively thinks about Asami (what time is it? when will Asami be back?) But we get this scene of Asami entering the apartment after Aki has run away and the silence is so immediately noticeable to him-i.e Asami may not always act that he is 'forgetting' about Akihito living there but in truth, he doesn't and notices when Aki is gone.  
> there's no going back to that old Asami. but here in this fic he doesn't even know about the potential for it...
> 
> episode two: 
> 
> OKAY i apologize for his one. It's hard to writing Asami being a little slut. LOL. but i do love giving my villains an origin story.   
> I was gonna write a sex scene for them- but I physically could not do it 🤣   
>  I was gonna do it because i have this head cannon that - that thing Sudoh does to Akihito in the warehouse later where he ruts his cock against Akihitos ass (if u've read finder online this scene was somehow magically cut so you might be confused)   
> But I always imagined that was actually something Asami had actually done to Sudoh in the past, and that is why Sudouh was recreating it with Akihito. Asami has a tendency to do sexual acts to other people but not penetrate. So you'll just have to use ur imagination that that is what happened.   
> I also like the idea that Asami tried to use him as a replacement- when he knew/thought Aki wasn't coming back.   
> Also, I like Sudoh in his delusion, believing that he is the 'original blond'. The one Asami actually cares about. The one that fits his 'type' and will be his 'true partner' as Asami has said. And that when Akihito comes back into the scene- Sudoh convinces himself that it is Akihito who is the 'cheap imitation' of himself, and aki is not worthy of Asami. even when all along it was always him that that was the cheap imitation and Asami only ever used him.
> 
> Episode three: 
> 
> I have a soft spot for Kirishima... I think a lot of people write him off as kinda just a stern secretary that hates Akihito, but i don't believe that. I think he knows very well why Akihito is important to Asami- and that frankly he secretly kinda wants/hopes that for Asami. and honestly, sometimes I feel like he does/can play a bit of the cupid sometimes (i.e when they are on holiday after naked arch and he basically tells Asami to GET THE FUCK IN THERE and make AKI feel better. although not in so many words.)


End file.
